Drinking Games
by RicardianScholar Clark-Weasley
Summary: During the Weston's Christmas party Emma plays a private drinking game that causes chaos for Mr Knightly.


Emma had just spent good fifteen or so minutes of her life stuck in a carriage with John grumbling about the weather and complaining about going to the Randall's and Mr Elton being so ignorant and tiring. To have Mr Knightly wind her up only furthered her frustration, it was reaching its peak when Mr Elton embarrassingly yelled at the footman on their treatment to her cloak of all things!

Her wonderful beloved Mrs Weston helped her calm down though when she pressed a glass of port in her hand. "I had a feeling you would need a drink, dear," she said quietly. "Mr John Knightly does have an unmanageable temper. Please do not let your father see you with this though."

"Thank you," Emma murmured as she moved to listen to Mr Weston talk about his son Frank Churchill and his letter.

She had difficulty listening to Mr Weston when Mr Elton kept asking to do something for her or her father every few seconds. Her drink vanished quite quickly as she took a gulp each time Mr Elton said Miss Woodhouse.

"Miss Woodhouse!"

Thank god for lovely Mrs Weston who was the most attentive hostess in all of Highbury. The moment her glass was empty it was quickly refilled.

"Miss Woodhouse!"

She took two large gulps and almost coughed as the rich yet sharp taste of wine hit her throat. This she thought, as she reassured Mr Elton she did not need to sit down nor was her father in discomfort and therefore missed the end of Mr Weston's tale, was going to be a very long night.

EWEWEWEWEWEWEW

This was the longest night that Mr Knightly has ever had to endure.

It was amusing at first to see Emma's frustrated expression as Mr Elton followed her as a lost puppy would but it quickly got annoying as Mr Elton kept calling out 'Miss Woodhouse' every few seconds interrupting every conversation in the room. While the food was exemplary the conversation was less welcomed as Emma swooned over the romantic image of a man she never met. Mr Knightly was close to befriending Mr Elton over the dislike of Frank Churchill's hold on Emma's attentions. Thank god for having John to distract him before he went to such desperate measures!

The evening was ending in disaster as John, Isabella, and Mr Woodhouse were upset over a little bit of snow and Mr Elton was running round like a headless chicken trying to find Emma. Knowing Emma she was probably hiding under the pretence of doing something private in the bathroom and will not come out until Mr Elton is gone.

However the little emerald green material leaking out from under the table and quiet giggling told Mr Knightly otherwise. He looked to see the Westons trying to calm everyone down and knew they would all be very well distracted, he went down on his knees and pulled the table cloth up.

"I thought you said you were too old to be playing under tables," he teased.

"George!" Emma cried out with a giggle, her eyes were bright and her cheeks were pink. Hang on did she just call him George? "Oh George, you were right, why are you always right? Can you not be wrong for once in your life?"

"No, I am to be always right," he said swiftly. "Now what are you doing under here?"

Emma placed a finger on her lips, "Shh!" she hissed. "I'm hiding from the creepy guy, Mr what is his name? Begins with an E...Ellie? Mr Ellie! Yes I'm hiding from him and all of his Miss Woodhousing he keeps doing. So very annoying and irritating, I just wanted Harriet to be happy and instead I have some creeper following me!" she wailed the last part.

"Emma, are you drunk?" Mr Knightly asked feeling his mouth drop open.

Emma has never drunk more than a glass of wine at the dinner table. To see her so wild with drink was an unusual and rather shocking sight.

"Shh, Shh, don't tell Father," she whispered wiggling closer to Mr Knightly so her face was right up by his. He could smell the drink on her breath. "I was playing a game."

"A game?" he repeated.

"Yes, to drink every time Mr Ellie says Miss Woodhouse," Emma said as if it was the wisest thing to say. She even nodded wisely. "It has all been great fun."

"Emma, you must not let your Father see you like this, it will worry him. You must come with me at once and we will fetch you a glass of water before calling for the carriage to take you home. I will see you home safely."

"Oh George!" Emma cried out looking at him as if he was something brand new and shiny. It was rather unnerving.

But nothing tonight would shock and unnerve him as much as Emma's next action did.

She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and hauled him even closer to her and suddenly kissed him! He would never think Emma would do such a thing. While he had dreamt of such things he would never even thought Emma would dream of such things as well. And yet here she was kissing him furiously and fast not giving him a proper chance to respond. He could taste the mix of wine and a few other spirits on her lips and he could hear her moan and...

"Yes," she mumbled as she pulled away from him, "to whatever it was you just asked. Yes." She then collapsed on top of him and began to snore on his shoulder.

There was a gasp and Mr Knightly looked back to see the whole party staring at them in shock, Mr Woodhouse looked horrified, Mr Elton looked furious, John for some reason looked smug, while everyone else was just confused.

"Oh my poor Emma!"

"You and Emma?"

"I have been tricked!"

"Emma and Mr Knightly, oh how wonderful!"

"Poor, poor Emma!"

"Mr Elton you must marry Mr Knightly and my sister at once, we do not want the rest of Highbury knowing about this kiss!"

"Poor Emma!"

"Well I never! I thought Emma and perhaps Frank, this is much unexpected."

"Poor Emma!"

Mr Knightly decided he would be able to play his own private drinking game. A drink every time Mr Elton scowled in his direction, two drinks every time the Westons went on how unexpected and wonderful it was, and three drinks every time Mr Woodhouse said 'poor Emma'.

He would be a very drunk man indeed.


End file.
